


til i reach you

by sharkkashi



Category: Bill & Ted (Movies)
Genre: ADHD Bill, Autistic Ted "Theodore" Logan, Bullying, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Relationship, autistic ted, set pre-excellent adventure, they are also neurodivergent ok, they are gay and in love but they're also kiddos pls be patient, this is really 2 different sections of writing i crammed together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26551159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkkashi/pseuds/sharkkashi
Summary: Ted does his best. He's not normal, never has been, but at least he has Bill by his side to make sure that he's ok.
Relationships: Ted "Theodore" Logan & Bill S. Preston Esq.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 52





	til i reach you

**Author's Note:**

> *projects on to fictional character* haha see im coping!  
> some mention of physical child abuse and emotional abuse/neglect throughout, f-slur is used a few times and r-slur is used once, pls be safe and dont read if that makes you uncomfortable! hopefully offset by the fluff of bnt being homies :)  
> not betad so let me know if there r any typos

Ted, as a general rule, tries not to cause trouble. He pays as much attention in school as he can. He nods along with others as they talk, tries to seem open and like he cares about what they’re saying. Not that he doesn’t care when he nods, but sometimes his brain isn’t having it with words and it’s all he can do to not curl up into a little ball and bite himself til things make sense again. That would be causing trouble and he’s not allowed to get in trouble. There are a lot of things that Ted can’t do to keep out of attention. He does a lot of stuff wrong, even now, in his senior year of high school and counting the days until he graduates. Most people are pretty nonchalant about it- Ted’s always stuttered over simple words and walked kind of funny and touched his neck a lot. People got nicer as they got older and busier and now that it’s senior year anything mean someone has to say to him, they say behind his back. No one trips him to watch him flail and eat shit. No one shoves him into closets or steals his lunch. He avoids trouble like he avoids talking about his mom, but unlike his mother, trouble always comes back to find him.  


There’s not much he can do about trouble that finds him. Half the time he doesn’t know what’s wrong until he’s in the midst of being lectured by his dad. First it’s his grades, slipping for the first time in 6th grade. Ted having a hard time sitting still in class, and the change in schools was difficult. Start times were different, he didn’t stay in the same classroom the whole day, and he had to meet a ton of new people. No wonder he was stressed enough to miss assignments. He scratches his neck as his dad drills his failures into him, how he has to be a better son because of Deacon, that he has to set an example and he can’t afford to slip up because it only gets harder from here. His father’s voice rises and he’s close to shouting when Ted finally snaps, anxious tugging on his hair not doing enough to distract him from the vitriolic anger in his chest. It’s a screaming match no one wins- Deacon wakes up and starts crying. And Ted chokes back his tears to go make sure he gets settled back in. He’s never fought back against his dad, ever. They don’t talk about it.  


But it happens again, a few months later. This time it’s the way Ted has started dressing, refusing a haircut and instead letting his wavy brown locks grow past the military cut that his dad gives him once a month. He wears a heavy brown jacket almost constantly now, even in the heat. It gives him something to hide in and something to bite on during class. He swiped it from the lost and found after waiting for 2 weeks to see if it was someone else’s. His dad thinks it makes him look like a thug. Between that and the hair, Ted may have well been staging a coupe.  


Halfway through the lecture on not “looking like a fag”, Ted feels that same, corrossive anger deep in his bones. Uncontrollable, irresponsible, irrational, it rises and spills out of his mouth.  


“Shut UP, Dad!”  


The sound his father’s hand makes as it hits his face is recorded perfectly in Ted’s brain. It’s dull and entirely unsatisfying. The pain echoes through his cheek and Ted doesn’t waste a second, scrambling out of the room and running. His heart beats so hard he can barely feel the hummingbird pace it’s hammering in his chest. Something deep claws at his stomach and he tastes bitter fear as he whips around the hallway corner to barricade himself in his room. He can hear his father coming, can practically see his enraged glare through the flimsy wood he cowers behind. No matter what he does, Ted knows he is thoroughly screwed.

Ted never speaks out against his father again. His rage is turned inwards, on himself and on his laundry list of undesirable traits. He’s had it repeated at him again and again, he’s the reason his mother left, he’s a disappointment to his father, he makes the now-Captain Logan ashamed to call him his son. He’s a fag, he’s a lazy freeloader, he does nothing but take from everyone around him, so why can’t you work a little harder, huh? Why can’t you just be normal? Why do you have to make everything so difficult?  


So. Ted tries to avoid trouble.  


He also tries to be as nice as he can. There’s something decidedly most triumphant about bringing a smile to someone’s face, especially when they’re having a bad day. Ted never wants to be like his dad. He’s not his father. He may know every reason why he’s a failure and is a waste of a human being, but he is not his father. On Bad Days, this is what he clings to. He will never be like Captain Logan. Never. He smiles at kids on the street and mostly remembers to say please and thank you. He makes sure to tip wait staff at restaurants and waves at people when they let him cross the street. He lets people borrow his pencils, even when it’s the last one, and one time gave a ponytail to a girl who’s own ponytail broke. Ted tries to remember to wipe his feet before coming in the house and always asks after Maria’s daughters when she’s there to clean.  


It’s not like anyone ever repays his kindness, but Ted doesn’t think kindness needs to be repaid, necessarily. He’s just putting out goodness into the universe for the sake of kindness, and maybe to combat the bad that he knows is out there. He asks for help in English and the teacher’s pet who gets stuck with explaining the assignment to him complains that Ted is too retarded for her help to make a difference. He avoids his house as much as possible.  


Bill is different from Ted. Which is totally rad! That’s what makes them such a good pair- Bill talks and Ted thinks. Ted can reach shelves Bill can’t, but Bill can do a handstand and Ted doesn’t have a grasp on that just yet. (He’s working on it.) Bill gets angry. He shouts at the dudes who trip Ted in the hall freshman year and ends up in the nurse’s office with a black eye. Ted skips his classes to walk Bill there, since it was really his fault for getting tripped in the first place. He apologizes a lot. Bill just laughs.  


“Those dickweeds deserved it,” he declares, despite only getting one hit in before getting knocked on his ass. The nurse gives him a bag of ice and sends him back to class. Ted follows Bill home guiltily, having already made plans to hang out that day. Bill doesn’t seem worried that he’s coming home sporting a black eye, which in turn makes Ted worry. He’s scratching consistently at his neck and picking at a scabbed-over pimple when they step over the threshold. Bill’s dad is laying in his recliner, beer in hand already. The scratching gets worse.  


“Hey Dad,” Bill calls. “Check it out!” He swaggers over to the living room and his dad raises an eyebrow. The swelling had gone down somewhat with the ice, but the skin is still purple and yellow.  


“Nice shiner ya got there,” he says. Bill grins, dopey and proud. “Did you give ‘em hell?”  


“You should see the other guys,” Bill smirks. His dad nods and returns to the paper. Bill grabs some food and hauls Ted upstairs. It’s not until they’re in Bill’s bedroom and the door is closed that Bill relaxes a little. Ted’s fingers are covered in blood, but he just wipes them on his shirt. He’s still waiting for the shouting to start, for the footsteps meaning certain doom to come. But Bill just flops back on his bed, unconcerned. The bruise fades after a few days and Ted nearly forgets it happened at all.  


Ted is different from Bill, but they’re more alike than different most of the time. Ted is only very different from anyone who isn’t Bill. He walks funny, even though he’s just walking, and walking is difficult in the busy hallways of highschool, swarming with students and teachers and all sorts of hidden obstacles like that popular kid who wants to have a conversation with him (as a joke, Ted realizes a little late) or a puddle that somehow only Ted will fall in. It’s not normal, apparently, to be unable to take his science test because the newly installed fluorescent lights were too noisy. Ted spends the rest of that semester with his head buried in his arms in a desperate attempt to block out that neverending buzz. It never works, and he gets chewed out by his father for failing that class. Thankfully when he retakes it, he’s assigned a different teacher, in a different classroom, with different lights. Her class is blessedly quiet.  


Bill agrees with Ted that walking is difficult sometimes. Neither of them are very graceful but people don’t really get mean with their teasing when Bill laughs at himself as he fumbles a catch and drops his lunch all over himself. It’s safe, to smile through it. Their classmates can detect the weakness if they even show it for a second, so they learn to offer dopey grins and sincere apologies whenever they inevitably fuck up. Bill’s dad is a lot more lenient than Ted’s about his grades and his clothes and his mess-ups. But there’s a way Bill holds himself around his dad that’s different than how he is with Ted. He squares his shoulders and frowns more often than not. He’s quicker to insult, slaps a rough hand on Ted’s back and most of the time, they don’t hug or touch when his dad checks on them. When they’re alone, usually in Bill’s room or at the Circle K late at night, exhausted but unwilling to part, is Ted’s favorite Bill to be around.  


There’s something comforting in the way that Bill’s mind hops from topic to topic like Ted’s- they’ll be discussing some mundane thing, and Ted will bring up something else, and Bill never complains. Sometimes they both will say the same thing at the same time completely by accident! One of Ted’s favorite memories is of he and Bill, one summer afternoon, reading through comics on Bill’s bed as an old Grateful Dead record plays in the background. They hadn’t spoken in about a half an hour, when something Ted reads starts a train of thought that ends with him saying, out loud-  


“Neil Peart.”  


\- at the exact same time as Bill. They met each other’s eyes, stunned at their synchronicity, before bursting out into a fit of laughter that made Ted’s stomach hurt and Bill’s eyes water. No matter how they explain it, no one seems to find this as funny or bodacious as they do. But that’s alright, because it makes the joke between them all the sweeter.  


Bill is also a naturally touchy person. He leans into Ted at the slightest breeze, walks angled towards him so they bump into each other in the halls. Ted can’t find it in himself to mind. Bill fidgets with Ted’s bracelet, or pulls on his patches (Ted never tells him, but that’s a part of the reason he’s never learned to sew properly), or one time, late at night, watching a movie, Bill had played with Ted’s hair. Ted never draws attention to it. His dad isn’t the most affectionate, not that Ted would really want a hug from him, and Ted doesn’t want to lose Bill’s casual fingers dragging across his arm, tugging his shirt to keep from losing him in passing period, the impromptu wrestling matches that usually end with them lying in a heap, laughing at nothing. Bill’s never hurt Ted, not on purpose. He’s stepped on his toes, or ran into him, one time elbowing him in the face by accident, but he never means it and he always apologizes. He usually insists on paying for their snack haul that time, or lets Ted copy his homework, or pick the movie they watch.  


Bill also never makes fun of Ted for stuff. The first time Ted saw him after he started wearing his hair long, he had been so nervous he thought he was going to be sick. He had fought for this haircut all summer long, evading his dad and refusing to let him cut off the precious few inches of growth he had maintained. Finally Captain Logan had given up, growling that “if you want to look like a faggot then you better not come crying to me when you gets beaten up” So Ted had won that fight. But Bill had been getting back from summer camp, and they hadn’t been able to talk at all for the month he had been gone, and now Ted regrets not letting his dad pin him down and shave off all of his hair. His dad was right and Bill was going to think he looks like a faggot for sure, and then he won’t be friends with Ted any more, and what will Ted do now? He’s going into high school, and he and Bill had been planning on starting a band after high school, and if he hated Ted before they even got to high school how were they going to make their band?  


Ted had been so wrapped up in his own worries he hadn’t noticed Bill sprinting down the street, nearly tripping and eating shit, as he barrels towards Ted. He barely processes what’s happening as Bill slams into him, knocking the both of them into Bill’s neighbors’ lawn. The grass is fresh cut and Ted is laying flat on his back as Bill peers down at him with the blinding sun behind him and his golden curls peeking out from behind his ears like an angel’s halo. Bill’s grin is huge and Ted is swept up by his energy.  


“Dude, your hair is most excellent!” he says, and Ted wonders why he was worried about Bill not liking his hair at all. Bill rolls off of Ted and they help each other up and race back to Bill’s house and Ted gets to hear about all the rad things Bill got to do at summer camp.

**Author's Note:**

> the neil peart bit is based off of me and my old best friend sitting in absolute silence for about 45 minutes before both, without looking at each other or saying anything, just said "Shakira Shakira" at the exact same time.. we STILL laugh about this and no one seems to think it is as cool or funny as we do. so im projecting lol  
> anyways thanks for reading players ! comments and kudos are epic and you can find me on tumblr.hell @shark-platinum !


End file.
